


All the best news

by songsformonkeys



Category: The Equalizer (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27023599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsformonkeys/pseuds/songsformonkeys
Summary: For once, you wake up before Dave. You sneak downstairs to do some writing before he joins you on the couch.
Relationships: Dave York/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	All the best news

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yespolkadot_kitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/gifts).



> Written for yespolkadotkitty who requested a fluffy Dave fic as thanks for sending me the script for The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. I hope you like this, wifey <3

Even though you love mornings, it’s a rare occurrence that you wake up before Dave. He’s a man of discipline and routine, which means there’s an alarm set regardless of whether he actually has to be up at that time or not. You’ve learned to go back to sleep after he’s slid out of bed so the whole thing doesn’t bother you. Sometimes, if you feel you haven’t gotten your fair share of husband during the night, you can persuade him to stay in bed with you for just a little longer. Those are the best mornings.

This morning, it’s not the alarm that pulls you from your slumber but the sound of someone driving by outside the window. You crack an eye open and it’s light enough that the alarm should have gone off by now. Dave is sleeping soundly next to you, so the lack of alarm doesn’t inspire any greater worry. He must have just forgotten. He doesn’t usually, but on the nights when he comes home real late he sometimes does.

You turn slightly to look at him and note that he looks tired even in his sleep. Any thoughts you might have previously entertained of waking him up with kisses for some alone time immediately fly out the window when your eyes trace the dark circles under his eyes and the crease between his brows that not even sleep has managed to smooth out. This morning, your love and affection will come in the form of letting him sleep.

You stay with him for another 15 minutes, just watching his sleeping form and listening to the slow rhythm of his breathing, before restlessness starts tugging on your consciousness and you decide to get up before accidentally waking Dave up.

It’s a little chilly once you leave the comfort of the bed and you pull on a long-sleeved shirt over your pajamas. Then you silently pad downstairs.

The house is all quiet and you take great care not to disturb the calm as you load up the coffee-maker and fix yourself a sandwich. You eat at the kitchen counter, looking out over your garden while waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The sun is just coming up over the rooftops and the grass glistens with a thin layer of frost. First for the season, you think.

You love mornings like this. The day always seems a bit magical before it’s quite gotten started. Calm but full of potential. All the best news you’ve gotten have been delivered to you in the morning: the double lines on the pregnancy tests for both Molly and Alice, Dave’s proposal, getting accepted to college, getting this house. Mornings have a special place in your heart, whether you enjoy them in bed or up and about. You wish you could share this feeling with the rest of your family, but the girls are too young to appreciate any kind of calm and stillness and Dave is…a practical man. He can appreciate things just fine, but you’d drop dead from shock if you ever heard him refer to anything as _magical_.

The coffee-maker makes a soft beep to let you know that the brew is done and you breathe in the heavenly smell before pouring a healthy dose of it into your mug. There’s no milk, so you’ll have to manage without.

You make your way into the living room and over to the big couch. Swinging your legs up onto the seat, you cover yourself with a blanket for some extra warmth. The blanket smells of Dave and you sniff it a couple of times before taking the first sip of the coffee. It’s good but a little too strong for your liking.

You set the mug down on the coffee table and reach for the laptop you’d left there the night before.

The google doc is still there, just as you’d left it when you went to bed last night. You watch the marker blink a few times before you start typing. With three other people in the house, writing time is a precious commodity so you’ve learned to be efficient.

You’d called your publicist about a month ago, saying that you might have another book in you. She’d been thrilled. You had a good feeling about this one too.

After about half an hour of steady tapping on the keyboard, you take a break, stretch your neck and pick up your phone. The notifications for unread messages from your friend’s group chat are already in the lower hundreds and just in the time it takes you to unlock the phone and open WhatsApp, another five messages are added to that. Evidently, someone is already up. You smile to yourself as you scroll back to read through the messages.

You don’t hear Dave come down the stairs but, as always, there’s some sort of noise giving him away just before he reaches you. Today, it’s a soft cough. You are under no illusions that those sounds aren’t 100% on purpose, to avoid scaring you. If Dave wanted to, he could easily sneak up on you.

”Good morning,” he says from behind you and you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. His voice is still rough and raspy with sleep and you find that unreasonably sexy. You turn your head, then make a sound of complaint when you notice that he’s already pulling away. Rolling his eyes, Dave leans back in again and kisses you softly on the lips.

”That’s better. Good morning,” you grin.

Dave smiles faintly. He still looks tired, wrapped in the fluffy gray bathrobe you had given him last Christmas and with his hair sticking up at odd angles. You have half a mind to tell him to go back to bed again, he’s clearly not done resting, but you know he’ll stubbornly refuse.

So instead, you set the laptop aside and beckon for him to sit down in front of you and lean his back against your chest. Dave’s not always the cuddliest of guys but you’ve learned to read your husband well enough that you know when the timing is right. And mornings like these, when he’s all tired and soft around the edges, are the best for getting Dave to relax.

As expected, Dave agrees and he lets out a content sigh when he grabs the remote for the tv as he sits down between your legs and lets himself be cradled in your arms. You nuzzle the side of his face and place a kiss on his temple. He smells faintly of smoke and fire and you wonder where that’s from.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table and Dave turns his head just a fraction to look at it.

”So how much genitalia was discussed while you slept tonight?” he asks, in a tone that’s impossible to read. You’d shown him the group chat you have with your friends once – possibly a mistake - and you weren’t entirely sure Dave had ever quite recovered from reading some of those messages. Dave is not a prude man, per se. But he’s definitely more of a doer than a talker. Your friends…they have no trouble with either, as is evident by the log of messages sent back and forth.

”Don’t ask questions to which you don’t want to know the answer, babe,” you tell him and he huffs out a laugh.

”Fair point…is that your coffee?” He nods towards the mug on the table.

”Yup,” you reply.

”Milk?”

”No, a certain someone forgot to buy it yesterday, I believe,” you say in a mock-stern voice that Dave sees right through.

”Sounds like a lousy someone but remind me to thank him later,” Dave says and picks up your mug, taking a couple of gulps of the now lukewarm coffee.

”There’s more in the kitchen,” you tell him because he looks like he could probably use more than your half a cup to get him to properly wake up today.

”Mhm, but there’s no you in the kitchen.” He takes your hand and kisses it as he turns on the TV and zaps until he finds a channel showing the news. Then he settles back in, resting your - now his – coffee mug on his stomach.

You watch the news in silence. There’s a small office building a couple of towns over that’s burned to the ground during the night and, just like every year, there are speculations about the pumpkins and whether or not they’ll be done in time for Halloween.

You send a few texts to your friends, using the back of Dave’s head as support for the phone. He only grumbles slightly as a complaint when he notices, but doesn’t move away.

There’s faint bruising on Dave’s knuckles and you wonder if that is from last night or from earlier and that you’d just hadn’t noticed it. You know police work got rough sometimes but you’ve never quite gotten over the uneasy feeling it gives you to see the evidence of it on your husband’s body.

On a more pleasant note, you also notice how the bathrobe has fallen open slightly, revealing more of Dave’s bare chest. It is a damn fine chest.

Dave’s now watching the weather on TV and you find it mind-numbingly boring so you decide to entertain yourself by sliding a hand under the robe to stroke the smooth skin of his chest. Dave doesn’t comment on it but he moves his arm, giving you more access to play. You run your fingers lightly across soft skin and muscle, circling a nipple before trailing down to just below his belly button.

He doesn’t speak and when you lean your head to get a look at his face a few minutes later, you notice that his eyes are closed.

”Are you sleeping?” you ask, a little surprised before you can stop yourself.

Dave smirks - _ok, so evidently not sleeping_ – but doesn’t open his eyes.

”I’m tired but I’m not dead. You think I could sleep when your hands are doing that?”

Dave opens his eyes, puts the mug down on the table, and turns his head so you can bend down to place a kiss to the side of his mouth. His lips taste of coffee and you pull your hand out from under the bathrobe to cradle his face. He kisses you again.

”I love you,” he whispers.

”Because I’m handsy and I let you steal my coffee?” you ask, jokingly, but Dave shakes his head.

”Because you’re the best woman I know. And you make me wanna be the best man that I can be.”

The serious tone to his voice takes you by surprise and you find yourself a little unsure how to reply to that. So you just lean down to kiss him again, hoping that will convey your feelings on the matter just as well as words.

Dave turns and shifts on the couch so that you’re both lying down next to each other. You, once again, thank your former self for deciding to get the couch that had looked ridiculously big in the store but had served its purpose many times over. Dave’s arm is still securely around your waist, holding you close.

”You know, babe,” he says, ”I’ve been thinking…”

”What about?” you ask.

”I’ve been thinking about maybe looking for a different job.”

”Yeah?”

Dave nods. ”I’m too old for the shit I’m doing now. I hate being away from you and the girls so much. I want to go to bed with you in the evening, not sneak in like a burglar in the middle of the night.”

”You would make a sexy burglar but Dave…if this is something you want… I’d love to have you home more. The girls would too.”

”It’s what I want,” he assures you and tightens his arm around you just a little, in an almost hug. You press another kiss to his lips and then you smile.

All the best news really did come in the morning.


End file.
